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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23428678">The April Fool, Stiles Stilinski</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/vacci_piano/pseuds/vacci_piano'>vacci_piano</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Stop Making It Worse [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous Relationships, April Fools' Day, Background Relationships, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Eau de Derek, Established Relationship, Everyone Is Alive, M/M, Pack Mom Stiles Stilinski, Post-Break Up, References to Knotting, not between sterek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:29:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,111</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23428678</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/vacci_piano/pseuds/vacci_piano</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Still not into my pasty, skinny ass?"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Stop Making It Worse [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1525187</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>393</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The April Fool, Stiles Stilinski</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>How is Eau de Derek not a tag already? So many fics use it, it's practically a trope by itself at this point.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>The contents of Stiles' closet are dwindling by the numbers.</p><p>"Weird." Derek had commented, far too innocently, like it wasn't an issue worth discussing, and then offered Stiles free reign to his own wardrobe, that, coincidentally, has no <em>clean</em> clothes whenever Stiles is forced to take him up on his offer. Stiles is now permanently reeking of Eau de Derek. Which is bullshit, because he's caught Derek making use of Casa Stilinski's many useful amenities - such as a washing machine - more than once.</p><p>"Dude." Was Scott's brilliant response the first time his poor senses were assaulted.</p><p>"I know." Stiles bemoaned and vowed to make this up to his bro somehow.</p><p>It is, in fact, not a mystery just what is happening to Stiles' clothes since Derek's claws just so <em>happen</em> to snag on to his clothes every time they're messing around, and Stiles' favorite shirts just so <em>happen</em> to disappear whenever Lydia visits his room. Stiles knows Derek and Lydia are in cahoots, but he has no proof. The real mystery is how the two came to actually work together. Mind. Blown. He knows the strategy of old enemies coming together to overthrow a common enemy - in this case, Stiles' wardrobe - is a classic tactic, but messing with his clothes is just <em>mean</em>.</p><p>He supposes he should be grateful he's allowed to have clean underwear - though he's starting to grow very concerned with how Derek has been eyeing them lately - and socks. But mark his words! There. Will. Be. A. Reckoning. <em>Nobody</em> messes with his plaid shirts and gets away with it.</p><p>As the only form of protest he's allowed - Derek is immune to his glares and Lydia would flay him alive if he tried to verbally reprimand her - he glares at Lydia's figure at the other side of the cafeteria and stabs his lunch, silently seething. Cora is similarly engaged; glaring at Lydia and stabbing her own school-provided nourishment of the day.</p><p>"Lydia and Jackson are no longer together." Cora says, like it's a sufficient enough explanation.</p><p>And that's the other thing. Like some fucked up version of parental custody gone wrong, in the aftermath of Lydia and Jackson "taking some time apart to figure things out" - Lydia's idea, and very much <em>not</em> a mutual decision, according to Jackson - Stiles has been relegated to the role of Jackson's temporary guardian until the beta gets back on his feet, emotionally speaking. ("You're the pack mom, Stiles.")</p><p>At least until Danny gets back from his family vacation.</p><p>It would be almost fine. Except every time Stiles is at the loft - time spent with Derek being a precious commodity these days thanks to the Sheriff - and leaves Derek's bed to get a glass of water so he doesn't pass out and they can continue their activities, Jackson's there, looking forlorn and <em>refusing to go away</em>. Sometimes the beta even sleeps at the foot of the bed after Stiles and Derek have finished.</p><p>During week nights when Stiles sleeps at home, Jackson calls him just before turning in - like clockwork - since Stiles has taken to securing his window with mountain ash, denying the beta access to his room. And, look, he has to draw the boundaries <em>somewhere</em>.</p><p>*</p><p>"You need to take Jackson back."</p><p>"No."</p><p>"I'm begging you."</p><p>Lydia sighs and starts filing her nails. "I'm doing this because I love him." Stiles motions with his hands, willing her to continue. She does, reluctantly. "It's private. I mean it, Stiles. He's got some things he needs to figure out."</p><p>"Lydia, <em>I swear to God</em>, if you don't do something, I'm gonna tell him about - "</p><p>"Who do you think he's going to take his anger out on? Because it's not going to be me."</p><p>Stiles lets the words wash over him and glares at her. Lydia offers him her sincerest smile, considering the matter closed.</p><p>"Besides, this<em> is</em> me, doing something."</p><p>*</p><p>Once, Lydia had presented Stiles with a key to Jackson's house.</p><p>"I want you to break into Jackson's bedroom tonight and steal his latest diary."</p><p>"So have one of the werewolves do it. Or do it yourself."</p><p>"No, it has to be you."</p><p>"That's... Oddly specific." He'd considered her request with mild suspicion before getting distracted. "Wait. He's got a diary. No, wait. There are <em>more</em> than one?"</p><p>The prize had proven too great to resist, and at Lydia's behest, Stiles had snuck into Jackson's bedroom. Predictably, he was caught by Jackson's new werewolf ears, but luck was on his side and somehow Stiles managed to convince the beta it was all a dream. Hey, it worked with Danny, why mess with success? But with Jackson it only worked because the beta had been hallucinating during his kanima days; turns out, Stiles' image was not an uncommon occurrence. The following day Jackson decided to get into therapy.</p><p>Lydia had been pleased. "Finally. I've been trying to get him to get professional help for months."</p><p>Stiles had paused his reading. "I thought you wanted his diary."</p><p>"Sure." Her uninterested gaze had swept over the familiar item in Stiles' hands. "His diary." She could have at least <em>tried</em>.</p><p>*</p><p>Stiles has just entered his room when he hears a stone being thrown at glass. He slides his window open and glares at the unwelcome figure, before giving a tired sigh and breaking the line of mountain ash and motioning for the beta to come up.</p><p>It takes a while for Jackson to open up, but Stiles waits with more patience than he knew he was capable of. Good thing he remembered to take his Adderall today.</p><p>"Do you remember back in second grade when we - "</p><p>"No."</p><p>Jackson ignores the protest. "I think I'm gay."</p><p>
  <em>Goddammit.</em>
</p><p>"If this is your way of trying to tell me I'm somehow responsible for your sexual awakening or sudden carnal urges or whatever, might I remind you I'm being plowed by your alpha? Said alpha who will absolutely rip your throat out? No, scratch that, he will rip <em>both</em> our throats out. I'm your pack mom! <em>Really</em> not on board with acting out the newest installment of whatever the werewolf version of an Oedipus complex is."</p><p>"It's not like that, dipshit."</p><p>"Oh, I'm sorry. My mind must have been playing tricks on me all those times you watched Derek mount me. Were you not there? Should I list the times by order of date, place or how much fun you seemed to be having? Y'know, in case you were there. But what do I know?"</p><p>Stiles is rewarded for his sass with Jackson rolling his eyes. "I only watched you take Derek's knot because I knew it would make you uncomfortable. It stopped being funny when I realized you get off on being humiliated." And now it's Stiles' turn to blush.</p><p>Jackson continues, his demeanor changing to someone who looks almost small and nervous. "I realized that because of what happened in the past, how I feel about <em>you</em>, might have clouded my judgement. About how I see other guys. That even though I might not be into your pasty, skinny ass - "</p><p>"Yes, thank you, message received! No need to be a dick about it."</p><p>Jackson's shoulders slump and he can't seem to bring himself to look Stiles in the eye. "How am I going to tell Lydia?"</p><p>Stiles takes Jackson's hand in his and gives it a few pats. "Oh, Jackson. My little lizard-brain. I think Lydia already knows." Then he punches Jackson in the shoulder. "Call Danny. I <em>refuse</em> to be your gay Yoda, especially since that thing in second grade when we - "</p><p>"That never happened."</p><p>Stiles points a finger-gun at the beta. "Precisely. Now get out."</p><p>"For the record, I know you'd be my bitch if it wasn't for Derek. I'm everyone's type."</p><p>"Oh my god! Once again, <em>not into incest</em>."</p><p>"Unless it's your cousin." Jackson shrugs and makes his way to the open window. "Danny told me."</p><p>Stiles doesn't know what to say to that and so has to content himself with flailing his arms uselessly <em>because what is his life?</em> and biting his lip so he doesn't end up saying anything unnecessary to Jackson's retreating figure. At this point there's just no use in explaining, is there? Mortified, he falls face-down onto his bed and makes a mental note to talk to Danny at some point in the future.</p><p>*</p><p>Still feeling a little morose in the morning - <em>no wonder Danny can't look him in the eye</em> - Stiles tries to locate any clean clothes he might be able to wear. To his horror, only two plaid shirts remain.</p><p>Stiles... has had enough.</p><p>In an attempt to gain some semblance of control over his own life, Stiles approaches Cora with a plan. Cora agrees to it almost immediately like he knew she would, thanks to her aggressively crushing on the banshee.</p><p>Emphasis on aggressively.</p><p>*</p><p>The prom committee is quick to announce their new plans to have plaid, of all things, as their chosen theme for prom.</p><p>Lydia scoffs. "That's probably the weakest April Fools attempt I've ever heard about."</p><p>"Sure." Stiles agrees with a bored tone as he high-fives Cora. "April Fools."</p><p>Lydia freezes and regards him with sudden suspicion, but it's Cora who meets her gaze; the she-wolf stares intently at the red-head with something that could almost be mistaken for a glare if it weren't for the corners of her mouth turning up.</p><p>*</p><p>After pranking each and every beta of Derek's pack to various success - he had felt so guilty after Isaac realized that Scott wasn't asking him out on a real date, that he had made Scott promise to take Isaac as his permanent working buddy at Deaton's - Stiles decides to check up on Derek at the station. By phone, because he's currently banned from the premises, <em>which is in no way his fault</em>. Fascists. There is absolutely nothing wrong with bringing his dad healthy homemade lunches; he was <em>not</em> flirting or trying to distract the station's newest recruit.</p><p>Since Derek is the only one working the reception today, Stiles is hit with sudden inspiration. He figures that getting Derek hard and bothered - yet being unable to take care of the problem - is enough payback for his ruined clothes, so he puts on his best <em>come hither and taste the goodies</em> voice he can manage and waits until his call goes through.</p><p>
  <em>Click.</em>
</p><p>"Guess who's not wearing any underwear today?"</p><p>"... <em>Stiles?</em>"</p><p>He hangs up and stares into nothingness, hoping for the sweet mercy of death to claim him. The phone rings once, twice, before he feels brave enough to answer it.</p><p>"Hi, dad. April fools!"</p><p>"<em>Really, Stiles?</em>"</p><p>"So, uh, where's Derek?"</p><p>"<em>Well, son, I was going to let Derek go home early</em>... " "Really?" "<em>Yes, well. I changed my mind.</em>"</p><p>His dad hangs up and Stiles buries his face in his hands.</p><p>*</p><p>He stands outside the loft, trying to estimate how long he's got before a wild Derek appears. What if he just takes the cubs back home after their walk, instead of returning to the loft, and then brings them back in the morning after Derek has left for work? Yes. That sounds like a wonderful plan. Except Stiles has school tomorrow and Derek's shift starts later than his first period. And dad's shift starts later, so it's not like he can stay in the house.</p><p>He steps into the loft, and after the obligatory bout of cuddles and slobbery kisses, he puts a leash on each cub and looks around the room before he spots the beta on a sofa. "Jackson. If Derek comes here before me, I need you to distract him." Jackson doesn't bother pausing the game on his phone. "What did you do?"</p><p>"Wh-... Nothing! Why does everyone always assume I've done something?"</p><p>*</p><p>It's all for naught. After he has returned the cubs to the loft, Stiles takes one step towards freedom when Derek's figure slides the doors open, eyes gleaming red, and Stiles' heart starts hammering inside his chest.</p><p>"He gave me months worth of paperwork."</p><p>Stiles whimpers, because he's very familiar (oh boy, is he ever) with just how much work that entails, especially in a town like theirs that has an above average of reported incidents, and far too few staff members to make those reports in an acceptable, orderly fashion.</p><p>Derek points his clawed forefinger at Stiles and snarls. "Bed. Now."</p><p>*</p><p>When Derek takes his knot out and starts pushing his come back in with his thumb - no longer clawed, <em>thank God</em> - Stiles lets out a weak moan before he suddenly remembers their audience.</p><p>Stiles' left eyebrow quirks up. "Still not into my pasty, skinny ass?"</p><p>Jackson shrugs. "Research."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey there, social distancers. Have a lovely day.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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